


more than enough.

by starspangledpeaches



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: George Weasley - Freeform, George Weasley x OC - Freeform, George Weasley x Original Male Character, Harry Potter - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28099287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starspangledpeaches/pseuds/starspangledpeaches
Summary: Oliver Longbottom begins to question if he even deserved his cat Moony after hearing terrible news.
Relationships: George Weasley x Oliver Longbottom





	more than enough.

Three small rays peek through the glass in Oliver’s dorm as lowly hooded eyes stare out the side of the angled panes. His chest rises and falls with every breath, every escaped sob that tumbles and bounces off the walls. Everyone had emptied out for the holidays, though Oliver always argued with Neville and his grandmother to stay back--- to stay alone. There wasn’t a moment where being alone didn’t feel comfortable. That shaking silence, cold and crucifying. At its peak, silence was the loudest wave of emotion in the beating of the curly-headed boy’s heart as he stuttered out another cry, lowering his body to the cold, wooden stained floor, as if he’d sink right through and melt into a lifeless puddle. Hours before Oliver walked back into the dungeon where he hid with painted tears for the remainder of the day, he was greeted by Hagrid, waddling toward him with a saddened expression. His hands hid behind his back as he teetered forward, and the smaller boy froze in place, surprised by his appearance inside the castle. “Er-- uh, ‘m sorry ter tell ya this, but ‘s best comin’ from me,” Hagrid gruffly mumbled, eyes dancing around Oliver’s figure with anxious anticipation. “What is it?” Oliver prodded a bit rudely, seeing as Hagrid’s silent pauses were making the awaited information all the scarier. And before Oliver could ask again, Hagrid finally let his hands fall to the front of him, and inside his closed fist was a small, brutally mutilated cat, black fur ripped to shreds. Hagrid closed his hand swiftly and gulped audibly while Oliver glared in complete and utter grief, realizing Moony, his lovely and cherished cat, had been attacked and killed. “Found ‘em in the fores’ outside, somethin’ not so nice got ter him before he coul’ make a run fer it,” Hagrid explained, but Oliver was already zoning out, regretting every single time he let Moony out at night. He hated him cooped up inside like a caged animal, but now he paid the risky price. Before anyone at Hogwarts, that black cat of his; green, glaring eyes and all, was his best friend. His companion. Possibly the only thing that got him through the first two years of his shitty start at the school. Oliver loved that cat more than any other animal in the world, and as Hagrid began to relay his condolences, Oliver was already dashing off in the other direction with tears streaming down his face. 

Two more hours until the Christmas feast, as sounded off by the bells chiming from the Great Hall. Even in the grimly lit dungeon of the Slytherin common room could Oliver still hear the ringing, until it faded off into more silence. Sitting bundled up by the weak fire, he wiped his face with his hands wrapped in a fluffy sweater, off and on as tears flooded and stopped, and flooded again until his chest was weak from the exertion. Every negative thought spiraled his downfall, and he let it seep through. Oliver questioned himself, enough to wonder if he actually deserved to be at Hogwarts for the lousy person he was, or if he deserved the friends he had and the moments he was able to create. Moments he ended up fucking up in the end, all because he wa so careless. Who the fuck would let their cat wander at night, all alone and unprotected, and not bat an eye at the thought that it would walk into its death? And who in their right mind loved the feeling of an empty, lonely room more than the dancing and singing, cheering and clapping of the holiday swarm amidst lively people, all celebrating their achievements and giving gifts and love to one another for the sake of joy itself? If anything, it seemed to be lining up just splendidly. He thought for a moment that maybe he got exactly what he wanted because he wanted to be alone. If nobody deserved his presence, that little black cat of his was bound to leave him, as did his friends in first year, or his parents when they were killed. It was all a curse, maybe, he pondered, as he laid back down against the floor and turned from side to side, small cries morphing into heavy rippling waves of breathing, like a fish out of water trying to catch its breath.

One muffled voice came from the other side of the dungeon door as the feast approached, the door swinging open with the password being said correctly. George Weasley had gotten the password from Oliver because he often came to see him, without anyone’s permission, of course. The ginger-haired boy decided to stay back for the holidays, all because he wanted to spend more time with the other. Oliver insisted that he didn’t need to, that his family would love him much more at the burrow, though George pushed the subject every day with so much excitement that Oliver had nothing more to argue with. Of course, it was George’s family that needed the real convincing, but Molly was in a good mood and decided that without both twins at home, it made Christmas around the house a little less unruly for her own sake. “Ready to stuff your guts with all the unhealthiest food in the world!?” George called out with a grin while he searched around the grand and empty space of the common room, soon becoming a little worried when he realized Oliver wasn’t coming out from around any corners or walking down the steps that led to his dorm. 

“Love? You here?” George’s deep, confused tone echoed off the walls, bouncing until the silence came forth to greet him like a slap in the face. He scrunched his nose and his lips parted for a small exhale as he began to walk toward where Oliver’s room was. With each step the twin took, he gazed around, letting every intrusive thought leave his brain. There had been a few times Oliver was a bit late to whatever function he and George attended, and as for George, it didn’t bother him much in the slightest. Whenever it came to his lover, he was as patient as ever. He assumed Oliver was still putting on an outfit in his room-- maybe throwing on a hoodie, or neatly tucking in a green and silver tie under his vest. It put another smile on George’s face, one that was warm and fuzzy through and through, just like the tingles that rose to his chest as he kept on fantasizing what beautiful outfit he’d see walking toward him, just for him. 

Finally, George reached Oliver’s dorm room, a thick wooden door accompanied the outside whilst small, dim torches lit up the hallway. With a short breath, George hit his knuckles on the exterior, head tilted up while he listened to any confirmation from Oliver to come in. But what he was greeted by was a tired, defeated wail, and then a wrecked voice that practically bellowed between cracks,

“Just leave me alone...”

George almost couldn’t process it all for a moment, and he stood there with his jaw hanging open and his eyebrows furrowed into deep hesitation. If it weren’t for George’s ability to tell Oliver’s voice apart from anyone else’s, it would’ve been as if the gloomy voice from the other end was a complete stranger. It was like a knife twisting at his heart, and although George had fought with Oliver and heard the yells and screams he used to lash out with, it didn’t hurt as much as hearing what sounded to be true despair coming from his boyfriend. Instead of opening the door, George mumbled out, “Darling, what’s wrong? Please tell me.” Hoping for a reply, the ginger leaned his head against the door patiently, heart aching in his chest. He knew if he entered now, Oliver was only going to push him further down the hall, enough to where he’d be banished from even hearing the small cries from the other side. The unknowing feeling lingering was enough to make George vomit, and he desperately wished for Oliver to express what had him retreating. 

On the other side of the door, Oliver was huddled in the corner of the room next to the windowsill with a small pillow to support his back. He hadn’t moved since he’d sat down more than half an hour prior. His pale cheeks along with his untidy hair created a ghostly image, one desaturated from any vibrance behind his hooded eyes. As he heard his boyfriend’s concern, Oliver leaned his head on the glass and banged it once, and then twice, until tears started rolling down his cheeks again. He sat there for a few seconds that felt like an eternity before choking out an answer. “You deserve more than me.” 

“What are you talking about?” Oliver heard George’s voice soften even more than it already had been. It sounded as if he was pressed up against the door so flatly that his body wait might as well knock it over on the spot. The curly-haired boy simply stared at the door at the other end of the room through glossy vision, and then completely broke down into loud sobs, muffled by a hand that was slapped over his mouth in order to keep a full volume from rumbling throughout the walls. 

Through his cries and his head dipped into his body, he hadn’t noticed that George had opened the door and was running toward Oliver like it was the last time he’d ever see his lover. He’d scooped Oliver up and clambered onto the floor before pulling him tightly into his embrace. Oliver couldn’t even form words anymore as his cries and uneven breaths mixed together in a staggering, wretched breakdown. “Oliver… baby…” George whispered into his hair as his hand rubbed at his back, Oliver involuntarily caving his head in just under George’s chin. He wasn’t sure what had happened, though he was to prove how much he loved him despite. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” He cooed gently, placing soft kisses into the curls that spiked out in all places on Oliver’s head. “Every day I wonder how some idiot like me ever got the most charming, beautiful, sweetest boy in the entire school, the entire world even,” George said while Oliver breathed deeply, finally regaining some of his voice.

“Moony’s fucking gone. All because of me,” He gritted between clenched teeth, small sniffles erupting from him as George used his thumb to caress Oliver’s cheek and wipe falling tears. “I loved that stupid furball, and I---I should’ve been careful, more considerate-- fuck, I led him to his goddamn death--” Oliver was rambling through harsh syllables and gripping George tighter and tighter as he felt anger at himself bubbling, and George felt his heart drop to his chest knowing Oliver’s beloved cat was gone. He wasn’t surprised that Oliver was taking it this way, but it completely broke his heart that he even thought it was his fault. 

“Nobody should keep their cat locked up all day and night, love,” George started as his fingers rubbed his cheek. “It’s not your fault, Ollie. You let that cat have a good life wandering ‘round. And I bet he absolutely loved it. I know I would’ve… if I was a cat.” George took a moment to look at Oliver, all broken and disheveled before he leaned down and placed a small, loving kiss to his sweaty forehead. And Oliver sat there for a while in his sobs as George sat with him before he spoke up.

“I barely fed him, or pet him, or actually looked after him like an owner should, and he still loved me like a blind bat. And I fucking hate myself for not caring more. Not spending more time with him.” Oliver, for the first time since George walked in the room, glanced up at him as if he’d lost his sense of self, a world crumbling beneath his feet. George felt it too, he felt the pain in his chest rising, the way his lips twitched into a frown, his eyes so full of emptiness and as wide and open as the roaring sea. George had to take a few breaths to prevent himself from shedding a tear at the pure sight it was to see his boyfriend like this. He hated it with every ounce of his being, like a hammer breaking his heart into a million pieces.

“He loved you, or else he wouldn’t have kept coming back. And even if you weren’t always there for him, you were enough for him.” George said quietly and earnestly.

Silence. For a few moments. Oliver seemed to be processing his words.

“What about for you?” Oliver mumbled out of the blue.

“For me?” George questioned, eyes scanning the darkened hazel hues. 

“Am I enough for you? Because I’m distant at times, and I don’t show all the love you do, and it probably makes me look like I don’t care, and I--” Oliver started, but as George recognized exactly what he was referring to, he tilted his head forward and captured Ollie’s tear-flavored lips with his own, kissing him with fervor stronger than he had in a long, long time. 

Pulling away, George rested his forehead against Oliver’s as he nudged his small nose with his own. “There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t love you,” He whispered as he saw the small hazel color returning in Oliver’s eyes as if something inside him had lit up again. He was frozen in his spot, looking at George with equal passion and longing. “Just because you aren’t constantly giving me affection doesn’t mean you’re not enough,” George’s entire hand was holding Oliver’s cheek now as a small tear finally slipped from his own brown hues. “You’ve been everything I’ve ever wanted since the day I met you. You’re more than enough, Ollie. You always have been.” He finished with a small exhale as Oliver broke out into a saddened smile, tears dripping down onto George’s hand. But George could care less as a genuine, loving expression crinkled the corners of his eyes that stared adoringly into glossy ones. 

“I love you, Oliver.”

Oliver leaned forward and pressed a delicate kiss to the ginger’s lips, his hand sneaking its way up to wrap around George’s neck, pulling him down so they were as close as they could be. And as Oliver pulled away, he quietly uttered out with raw and pure emotion,

“I love you, too, George. So much.”


End file.
